


The last Strand

by FreddieFoxBaxter



Series: TK Strand Week 2020 [4]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Jealous TK Strand, M/M, mention of labor, petty TK Strand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27406372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreddieFoxBaxter/pseuds/FreddieFoxBaxter
Summary: TK is an only child and has zero interest in changing that.
Relationships: Owen Strand & TK Strand, TK Strand & Zoe
Series: TK Strand Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997548
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	The last Strand

**Author's Note:**

> **TK Strand Week 2020**  
>  **Day 4:** "I'm proud of you" + future
> 
> Once again, my complete disregard for the prompt is borderline criminal, but I still love this fic… sorry?

TK was an only child. As a kid, he had hoped for a sibling, possibly a brother, but a sister would have been fine, too. That dream, however, had soon been quashed under the screaming matches between his parents that seemed to become more frequent as the years went by, until the day it definitely died when his dad moved out. Which is why it shouldn't have surprised anybody, him reacting fairly bad when his dad announced he got his girlfriend pregnant. TK didn't treat her badly, he liked Zoe, after all, but he simply could not accept the news, no matter how many times Judd told him it was a blessing, or the never-ending lists of baby names Paul and Mateo put together.

He was an only child and had zero interest in changing that. He was fighting a lost battle, he was aware of that, even Carlos capitulated, showing up at the baby shower with an unbearably cute firefighter onesie and a bunch of hand-stitched baby clothes from his mother. All the annoyed looks TK shot him did nothing to smother his enthusiasm about becoming an _uncle_ , a title he was trying to get TK to accept too if _big brother_ was too much of a hustle. He resisted, though, he stood his ground firmly and refused to succumb to the baby fever that infected everybody around him.

It's not that he didn't like kids either, he simply didn't want one in his house, especially one who had already begun stealing his stuff before even being born, starting from his gym, the room where he went to unwind when life got too intense. Owen wasted no time turning it into a nursery. TK had swallowed bitterly looking at his equipment being tossed into the basement to make room for organic baby furniture. TK hated the white wooden crib with burning passion and had taken to avoiding that room as much as possible and to shut down any communication every time his dad brought up baby stuff or Zoe moving in with them.

He dreaded that moment and had started looking for a new place as soon as his dad mentioned it, a place where no damn baby would steal his room. He had shrugged off Marjan's accusations of being spoiled and selfish, she wasn't the one whose life was about to be turned upside down just because his dad couldn't keep it in his pants, which, he admitted, was an unfair accusation, but, after fifty-two years on this Earth, Owen should have been more careful, and that point TK wasn't willing to drop, as much as his father insisted it was none of his business.

After months of open hostility, a once-in-a-lifetime hurricane pointed straight to Austin, ravishing the city and leaving a trail of devastation on its path, forcing the two Strand to a temporary ceasefire: they were all living at the station 24/7, and their shifts were grueling enough even without their constant bickering, or so Marjan said at the "peace conference" she set up the day before the hurricane hit.

So no, TK was not in the mood to babysit Zoe that afternoon. He hadn't slept in almost thirty hours, he didn't remember the last time he took a proper shower and all he had for lunch was a cup of coffee and two spoons of soup straight out of the can, so when the woman showed up complaining of a blackout in her neighborhood and not feeling safe there alone so close to term, he had fixed her a bed in Owen's office, made her a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of tea, and left her there. She was safe and sound and he could see her from his desk. He had paperwork backed up and everything was fine.

And then everything went up in flames.

Not quite literally, but still.

“Sorry, Zoe,” he said, hanging up the phone, “still no ambulance available. Looks like the baby will be born here at the station.”

“Dammit, your father will be unbearable – fuck,” she groaned. TK pressed his lips in a thin line; she was in pain and giggling at how right she was would help nobody. 

“You want me to try to call him again?”

“No,” she panted, “he is working, it would only distract him. I can – I can do this.”

TK slowly nodded, “I’m going to check you up now, ok?” He paused, putting on a new pair of gloves from a half-empty box on the floor.

“Mmh,” he hummed, “looks like it's time, Zoe,” he said putting his hand over her knee, with what he hoped was a reassuring glance.

“I hate this,” she spat, her body shaking with yet another contraction.

“I know, but you are doing great. Next contraction, I need you to push, ok?”

He waited for her to nod before speaking again. “You guys set on a name yet?” he asked to distract her.

“No,” she groaned, “we don't even know if it's a boy or a girl, O – Owen wanted the surprise and I didn't want my baby to get everything pink or blue, you know? Fuck,” she gritted.

“And now everything is beige...”

TK arched his eyebrow, surprised by the bitterness in her voice.

“That's... unfortunate,” he whispered, his gaze firmly between her legs.

“I fucking hate beige!” she yelled. TK left out a soft chuckle, Zoe sounded so exasperated, he couldn't help but feel for her.

“You are doing great, Zoe, you need to push one last time, then we can go solve this beige mess.”

**oOo**

  
  


“TK?” Owen yelled, jumping down from the truck.

“Shh!” he hissed in response, shooting a glance at the baby, still sound asleep in his arms, his tiny hand firmly wrapped around his finger, his lips parted and a blissful expression on his face.

“They are both sleeping, dad, be quiet!” he scolded the man running up the stairs. Owen shot a concerned look through the glass of his office, where Zoe was sleeping on the couch. From the ground where he was sitting, TK looked up to him.

“She was great, and they are both fine,” he whispered, “want to hold your son?”

The tired smile blooming on Owen's face tickled TK’s jealousy.

“I want to hold both my sons,” he said crouching beside them, gently brushing his fingers against the baby's soft cheek. 

“Thank you for being there for Zoe.”

“Of course,” TK shrugged, “not like I could kick her out.”

“Still,” Owen whispered, lifting his gaze to look into TK's eyes, “couldn't have been in better hands. **I'm proud of you** , son.”

TK sighed, tears blurring his vision; he melted in his father's embrace, resting his forehead on his shoulder.

“Are the others ok?”

“Fine, it's a whole mess out there, but nothing they can't handle. We miss you, though."

“I miss you guys, too. The other team is great, but it's not – it’s not the same,” TK whispered.

A soft wail came to break the emotional tension between them.

“Shh,” TK rocked the tiny bundle in his arms, “I think he might be hungry.”

“He and I both,” Owen sighed, “might be time to go wake up mommy.”

TK hesitated before handing over the baby; the look on his father's face squeezed his heart, but then his brother wailed again in protest, making him smile as he watched them go into the captain's office. He glanced upon his family, traces of his smile still lingering on his lips.


End file.
